


A Cell Story

by Yeet4643



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dragon Ball Z - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Highschool shenanigans, Mentions of Suicide, Perfect Cell - Freeform, angsty teen - Freeform, help me please, i dont even know, i dont even like this character anymore, i wrote the first chapter two years ago on deviantart so don't mind the tonal shift, making it up as I go, missing body parts, still gonna write it tho, who even reads tags, yeet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeet4643/pseuds/Yeet4643
Summary: A high school girl, bored with life, lives in the real world where Dragon Ball Z is an anime, but strange thing start to appear that suggest otherwise.
Relationships: Cell (Dragon Ball)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 25





	1. Bus Ride

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this first chapter two years ago. So don't mind the tonal shift.

Another boring day bites the dust. School today seemed slower than usual, and being stuck in an uncomfortable seat listening to the most boring teacher rant off about the quadratic formula didnt help in the slightest. I sat looking out the window at the clouds or whatever I could distract my mind with at the moment, drowning out the noises of the classroom. At least the weather was nice. Not the usual cloudy, musty day that almost always covered my hometown. Actual sunshine was emitting from behind the clouds.

Resting my head on my arm, I began to think of something, anything that could make the clock tick faster. I loved anime, particuraly Dragon Ball Z. Every Saturday morning I woke up with extreme joy, excited to see what would happen next in the awesome fighting show that I loved so much. The androids had been absorbed by my favorite character, Cell. I wanted to know if Vegeta could beat him or not. I began thinking of ways that Cell could look in his perfect form. Would he be ugly...or attractive?

Apperently my strategy worked, because the loud rining of the bell signaled that 8th period was over and we can all go home. I was absolutely ecstatic to race home and crawl onto the couch and see a preview of the much awaited 160th episode.

Unfortunately, my enthusiasm was halted and a sudden realization overcame my consiousness: I. Have. To. Ride. The. Bus.

My bus ride was insane! 50 smelly, horny teenagers all stuffed into a tiny contraption that has no open windows, air conditioning, or supervision all of whom originate from a public school of 1,000 kids. 

Seems like a great idea to me!

I dragged myself to the bus, dreading the horrid smell and noise that always comes from entering for the first time. Many of the kids never showered and had terrible home lives and constantly acted out or bullied others for attention. 

I wasnt one of those kids, but I had my own problems to deal with. My father had died when I was younger and left everything to my mom. I absolutely hated him for years, because in my eyes, suicide isnt the way to deal with a broken marriage.

I made a reputation of keeping to myself on the bus, ignoring the catcalls from horny highschool boys and the constant gossip of the barbies that occupied the front of the bus. I sat in the wayyy back, almost up against the back door. 

I set my backpack down on the seat next to me by instinct, so that noone else would feel inclined to sit beside me. I was one of the kids who got on first, so I had the freedom to choose my own seat, and no, there were no assigned seats. Everyone tends to stay in the same spot anyway, so it wasnt really necessary.

I glanced out the window for a brief second at the plethura of children pouring out of the building's doors and into their buses. I recognized a few faces, none of whom I actually knew personally. I have no friends here and dont plan on making any any time soon.

But, one person I knew caught my eye. Its a rare sight indeed to see Annaleise Trancy, the richest kid in the school, boarding anything other than a limousine. She was following some random girl onto a random bus two vehicles in front of me. 'Hmm. I wonder whats up with her.'

Anna was the closest thing to a friend I had. She was more of a friendly acquaintance then a friend, but she talkes to me, so she's automatically better than the rest if the scumbags who drown in false education. Honestly, its a surprise that her parents would even let her go to my crap school when they obviously can afford better. Maybe her wealth isnt all its choked up to be.

My thoughts were wandering around other subjects as the rest of the attendents of my bus finaly arrived. Late like they always were, our driver gave them an ear-full and shut the door. I kind of feel bad for Mr. Carlos. The war changed him from a jolly old chap into an angry powerhouse ready to rip your head off at any time. I can't really blame him though. When you see what he saw out on the battlefield, you will never be the same. 

The bus pulled away from the station and rumbled down the bumpy road. The jossling was worse than usual, as was the increase of speed as we left the schools boundaries. 

Being friday, Mr. Carlos was in a rush to get rid of us so he could go home and rest. I am not totally objecting to the idea of sleep right now. 

I let my eye lids fall as the sound of arguments and yelling filled my ears. By now I was used to the sound and even found it conforting to hear. 

As strange as it sounds, I like the feeling of bumpy car rides. Rollercoasters and flying are my biggest passions. I have always wanted to fly like Goku, zooming through the threshold of ground and space without a care in the world.

My carefree daydream came to an abrupt conclusion as the rhythmic shaking of my arm woke me. Annoyed, I gave a deathglare to whoever dared to touch me. Grasping onto my sleeve was a wimpy girl who looked about the age of nine. She was blubbering and snotting on my jacket, slurring incoherrent crys as an attempt to recieve help. I felt sympathy for the child, so I tried to make sence of her situation.

"Hey there. Whats the matter kid? You look scared." The little girl sat on my backpack and cried into my shoulder. "My b-brother want, wanted ..t-to...my cat" All I could make out from the exchange was that it had something to do with her brother. Sadly, I knew exactly who she was referring to.

Jacob Gibeson wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and niether was he as polished as the rest of them. He found it funny to terrorize his little sister, in this case, he threatened her cat.

I tried my best to reassure the little thing and lift her spirits. I told her a number of cheesy jokes and even a little story that got her giggling out of her shoes. She in turn told me about herself and her family. 

Her cat, Purrfect, was a little white kitten that had replaced Jacob's old terrior pup after they had to put it down. The old thing got cancer and Jacob was traumatized from the ordeal. When another pet came along, he felt hurt and wanted it gone. Ago, he resorted to teasing his sister about the cat, probably trying to get her to not want it anymore.

I felt his pain on some level. When my pet frog died, I was livid about the idea of replacing him. I cried for months, because little Spotty was the only friend I had in the 3rd grade. 

But eventually, I got over the trauma. I had never felt happier when mom came home with Buggles the snake. Last week however, we learned that Buggles was diagnosed with PTSD. It was strange because she had never acted out before, or given any indication that she was abused, so it was quite a shock to us when she bit my 6 year-old brother on the arm. He wasnt even being rough with her, but I guess it was too much for her to handle.

Eventually, she calmed down enough and I let her go and sit with her brother again. As per the usual, screaming induced from an unknown source near the front and the bus came to an abrupt stop at some random location in our small town. A few kids got off at their stop and ran to meet their mothers, finally free from the bondage of schooling, at least for the weekend. 

My stop was in a few miles, so I chutched my backpack to my chest and waited for the familiar houses to appear around the corner.


	2. Snake Trouble

Messy house, messy bedroom. It's only natural for a hoarder parent's habits to rub off on their kids. Now, my mom was not the hoarder of the house, my dad was. He had collections of comic books stacked a mile high in the living room and hundreds of boxes of who-knows-what in his locked office. 

However, ever since he.. Ehm… kicked the bucket, my mom has been slowly cleaning out the house. 

But when it comes to my room, I'll just say she has a hard time, well, walking. Even I can barely make my way through all the empty cans and chewed pens littering the floor. My room is basically a glorified storage closet. If something has no place in the rest of the house, it ends up here. 

The only things of actual value in my room are my bed, which is strangely always made, and my desk, which holds my snake cage. It used to be my frogs cage, but you know the story. The desk is right beside my bed which I use as a makeshift chair. Can't really fit a chair in here anyhow. 

Once the bus dropped me off, I headed straight to my room. No homework this weekend, so I can relax a little for a while. 

I opened the door to my room and fumbled onto the floor. It swung outwards into the hallway and I tripped on something that fell out. 

Another basketball. 

Great. 

Looks like James lost another one. 

My older brother, James, has college classes online, which means he is always home and always bored. He likes to hide things in my room, knowing I'll stumble upon them weeks or even months later. But to be honest, twelve basketballs is a bit much. 

I grabbed the ball off the floor and chucked it out the hallway window. 

I hate sports. 

Finally inside my room, I threw my backpack on my bed and hopped up right beside it. 

Buggles, my adorable albino snake, peaked her head out from under her log, having felt the vibrations of me hitting my bed. She looked up at me with her beady red eyes. I guess she's hungry. 

I grabbed the little box of mice that sat beside her cage on my desk and picked out a big one. I opened her cage and plopped the rodent inside, hoping for an excited snake to take her meal. 

She slithered out from the log and approached the mouse from behind. She stalked it slowly as it scattered around the glass enclosure, searching for a way out. When it noticed her, it ran around frantically and looked up. 

Apparently I had forgotten to close the lid, too entranced with my snake's predatory ritual. The mouse used the log as a step stool and jumped out of the cage! 

Shit! 

I tried desperately to grab the small thing, but it got away and was probably lost in my room. Damn it! That's one meal gone forever. 

I looked at Buggles with regret. 

"I'm sorry girl. I should have been more careful." 

She pointed her triangular head at me as if to say, "how dare you lose my food". She then slithered under the red lamp and curled up into a ball. 

Hm. That's weird. 

I looked at her noodle body closely under the red light. 

There's a lump. A big one. 

Not just any lump, like a mouse or frog in her stomach, but it was perfectly round. 

How had I not noticed that? 

Did she get out of the cage and swallow something she shouldn't have, or did my brother put something in her cage that she mistook for food? 

I decided it was the second option. I'll have to give him an earful later about messing with my precious baby. But right now, I got to get this out of her. 

I reached my hands into her cage and lifted her up carefully. She was unusually complacent, having always thrashed around whenever I would pick her up. But this time she was still, like she knew I was trying to help her. 

I carried her out of my room and into the bathroom down the hallway, making sure to avoid stepping on whatever was on the floor. 

I set her down gently in the sink and opened the mirror cabinet. I found a pair of latex gloves and put them on. Can never be too careful with unknown substances. 

Buggles watched me as I prepared a ziploc bag for whatever comes out of her. I put it down beside the sink and lifted her out. I set her on the counter and stretched her long python body out. 

It won't be pretty but I need to get this thing out of her before it makes her sick. 

I pressed my left thumb gently under the bump and pushed upwards. Slowly but surely the bump made its way up her body. 

I kept pushing until she vomited out a gross snake-vomit covered ball. It was white. 

I picked it up and held it between my gloved fingers. It was squishy and gel-like. 

What is this thing? 

I flipped it around in my hand and nearly had a heart attack. 

An eyeball? 

What's an eyeball doing in my snake's stomach? 

It had a pink iris and small black pupil that dilated when it came into contact with the bathroom light. 

What the actual hell? 

I stared at the disembodied eye and it seemed to be… staring back. 

This is too weird. Where did it come from? Did my brother do this? If so, where did he get it? Why was it pink? Why did it dilate in the light like it was still attached to a brain? 

My mind raced as I tried to think of an explanation for this almost paranormal finding. My hands shook slightly as I slipped the eye into the zip lock bag, trying to avoid the weird paranoia building up inside of me. I almost didn't notice Buggles slither off the counter, happily rid of this strange blockage. 

I set the bag in the sink and took off my gloves, throwing them into the wastebasket beside the toilet. Buggles was now making her way around my feet on the floor. 

"You aren't getting away from me that easily you little rascal. " I said, picking her up off the ground. I took her out of the bathroom, but not before I looked behind me at the eye in the bag. It was watching me.


End file.
